


Office Christmas Party

by LSquared80



Series: Merry and Bright [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas but not in a religious way, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Office Romance, holiday story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21706825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LSquared80/pseuds/LSquared80
Summary: Brienne is frustrated - her job is keeping her from going home for the holidays and she can't stand her co-worker, Jaime. The office Christmas party changes everything.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Merry and Bright [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564570
Comments: 21
Kudos: 159





	Office Christmas Party

**Author's Note:**

> This is the 2nd entry in my series of standalone holiday-themed stories. This one is not based on the movie "Office Christmas Party" so much as the concept of the office holiday party. 
> 
> I love writing holiday themed stories and the time between now and December 25th is my favorite time of year, but I'm not a religious person. That is the type of Christmas that exists here since it obviously doesn't fit in with the theology of the GoT universe. I have several ideas for short stories based on holiday movies, or movies that are holiday adjacent, and hope to post once a week between now and 12/25. For this alternate and modern world, Christmas is more about the time of year and traditions than any type of religious observance.

Lannister, Tyrell & Associates was located on the fifty-first floor of a Kings Landing high rise. The view of Blackwater Bay from Brienne Tarth’s office was a driving force behind her decision to keep her job as one of the associates in the law firm’s name. Another reason was her fondness for the second name on the door – senior partner Olenna Tyrell. 

Jaime Lannister was most certainly _not_ a reason Brienne remained employed at the firm. The arrogant son of the other senior partner was a constant threat to her happiness at work and to her moral code. All the women in the office swooned in his presence, but she found him rude and incorrigible. His golden hair and striking green eyes were pleasing to look at from across a conference table, but Jaime's attractiveness did not blind Brienne to his questionable tactics. 

He’d mistaken her for a man during their first encounter, but the longer Brienne knew him, the more she suspected Jaime had purposely made a cruel jab about her short hair and flat chest. She had a penchant for wearing boxy pants suits while it was typical for the other women to come to work in skirts and dresses. He seemed to derive great satisfaction from teasing her after it became public knowledge that she had once expressed her romantic feelings for Renly Baratheon; apparently Brienne was the last person in all of Westeros to realize he was gay. His greatest offense in her mind, though, was breaking attorney-client privilege while representing the once-governor of King’s Landing, Aerys Targaryen. Equally offensive was his ability to avoid punishment by the bar and keep not only his law license but his job. 

* 

The senior partners decided to tighten the budget on event planning, meaning the holiday party was being held in the office instead of a hotel ballroom as it always had. It also meant no significant others and no indulgent, sit-down dinner. A majority of the staff was pleased to realize the budget _did_ account for an open bar. 

When the clock struck five, Brienne shut her computer down. She shrugged out of her buttoned-up black blazer, revealing it had been covering something more than the usual blouse and slacks. Underneath was a sleeveless, festive red jumpsuit with a tapered waist and deep V-neckline. The blazer had concealed how the fabric was tight around her hips and thighs, growing wider at the knees to flare at the ankles. The fit elongated and slimmed her already impressively tall frame. The outfit earned stares as she emerged from her office, and Sansa Stark darted across the floor to stop Brienne in her tracks and whisper, “You look hot, Tarth!” 

It sickened her that showing more skin than usual garnered more attention and kindness from not only the men, but other women too. Theon brought her a cocktail and Petyr was suddenly curious about how her father was recovering after his stroke. The tone of Ygritte's voice changed when she addressed Brienne, sounding less formal and more cheerful – like two longtime girlfriends gossiping over drinks rather than two professionals being cordial. 

Brienne was not the only aspect of the office that looked different for the party. Every office door was adorned with a wreath. A decorated tree stood tall and bright in the corner of the large common area and intricate, sparkling snowflakes hung from the ceiling on barely visible strings. It was rather beautiful, and she was glad when it seemed like Jaime Lannister was a no-show. 

* 

She lost count of how many cranberry martinis she consumed. Petyr had brought one to her while she still held a full glass in her hand, and sometime during her conversation with him Brienne thought _I can’t feel my lips_ and knew it was time to slow down. 

“Excuse me,” she said to him, pretending someone on the other side of the room was beckoning her over. He’d been standing too close for her comfort, reeking of cologne and whisky. 

It turned out Sansa was trying to get her attention, wanting to make sure Brienne ate some of the grilled prosciutto wrapped figs before they were gone. She went to fill a plate when a commotion at the door had everyone clapping and cheering. She heard a male voice, in an exaggerated, deep tone, call out, “Ho ho ho! Santa Claus is here!” Indeed, a white-bearded man in the traditional red suit and black boots carried a velvet bag over his shoulder toward the tree. 

The Santa took a seat and people began lining up to take a photo and receive something out of the bag. It was humorous to see some of the men pose by sitting on Santa’s lap, especially Sandor Clegane. Brienne was laughing at the image when Sansa nudged her forward and said, “Go on, I’ll take your picture.” 

If she hadn’t been drinking cranberry martinis, Brienne would have politely declined and managed to slink back to her office to avoid the situation. Instead, another light push from Sansa and she stood in front of the jolly, bearded man. 

“Do you want to sit on my lap and tell me what you’d like to find under your tree?” the man asked, his voice still cartoonish enough that she couldn’t detect his true identity. 

She blushed and made an awkward attempt to sit, first facing forward. She maneuvered slightly and the man draped an arm across her lap, clasping his hand around her knee to assist Brienne in swinging her legs to hang over the side of his thigh. The intimate touch of a stranger would normally offend her, but she felt an odd, pleasurable tingle at the base of her spine as he continued to hold onto her. When he whispered, “What do you want for Christmas,” against the shell of her ear, she shivered. 

Brienne turned her head enough to look at him. The hat covered his hair and the beard hid most of his face. There was a glare on the lenses of his round glasses, but when he tilted toward her an inch, she recognized the green hue of his eyes. Santa was Jaime Lannister. “Uh, I have to go,” she said, inadvertently squirming on his lap in her efforts to stand up. 

She teetered away, glancing back over her shoulder to see Jaime tug the beard down under his chin. He seemed to be frowning in disappointment. 

* 

King’s Landing was having such a mild winter that Brienne was able to escape to the roof without first needing to get her coat. She surmised the alcohol and embarrassment, both heating her skin from the inside out, helped defer any chill. The door squeaked open behind her and she flinched. 

Brienne turned to see Jaime. He’d removed the outfit, revealing rumpled hair and a wrinkled, gray suit. The first several buttons of his white shirt were open, and his red tie hung undone around his neck. He was holding a beer in one hand and a martini glass in the other. 

“One of the elves told me you were drinking these,” he said, extending the glass toward her. 

She hesitated before taking it from him. “Thanks.” 

“Why did you run off? Are on the naughty list this year, Brienne?” Jaime asked. 

There was something about the husky quality of his voice that made her feel the same tingle that sitting on his lap had given her. Brienne took a step back and said, “I just wanted a minute alone.” 

“I’m not a big fan of these parties either,” he told her. “But my family’s name is on the door, so...” 

She took a sip from her drink. 

“All kidding aside, what does Brienne Tarth want to find under her tree on Christmas morning?” 

She stared at him with narrowed, confused eyes. 

“A partnership at the firm?” he asked. “A vacation to Dorne? An engagement ring from your boyfriend?” 

Brienne remained silent. 

He switched gears and asked, “Will you be able to go home and see your father?” 

She sighed, sounding annoyed. “Why are you talking to me like this?” 

“Like what?” 

“Like... like you’re a nice person. Like you care about me at all.” 

Jaime laughed and took a long pull from his bottle of beer. He bent to set it on the ground. 

“Is it because of this?” she asked, gesturing with her hand from her chest downward. “Everyone is treating me better after seeing more of me.” 

The amused smile faded from his face to something more thoughtful. “I always knew you had nice legs, Tarth,” Jaime told her. “But when you sat on my lap, I realized you have the most astonishing blue eyes.” 

She rolled said eyes. “I think this is all some elaborate game. You seem to get a thrill out of being mean so pardon me for not buying one nice thing you say to me.” She stormed past him, the drink spilling over the sides of the glass, and walked back into the building. 

* 

Olenna stole a quiet moment with Brienne after she saw her re-enter the party with Jaime coming off the same elevator two minutes later. “I wasn’t on the roof with _him_ ,” Brienne assured the other woman. 

“Honestly, I wouldn’t blame you. He is quite attractive.” 

Brienne cast a quick glance over her shoulder to where Jaime had taken a seat in one of the armchairs normally reserved for waiting clients. 

“What he lacks in ethics he makes up for in looks,” Olenna added. 

The comment earned a laugh from Brienne. 

“You know, he requested you for the Bolton case.” 

Brienne nearly spit her drink out. She swallowed, dabbing the back of her hand against her lips. “What? That’s so high profile.” 

Olenna nodded. “He told us you’re the only one he can see going up against ADA Martell,” she said. As Brienne maneuvered to be able to see Jaime where he sat, nursing a beer, the senior partner went on, “Referred to you as magnetic in the courtroom. Said he was impressed by your work assisting me on the Mormont murder.” 

“That was last year,” Brienne remarked. 

Olenna shrugged. “I guess he’s been watching you.” 

* 

The senior partners announced their departure, Olenna first and then Tywin, and the moment the elevator doors sealed shut the volume of the music was turned up. The tone of the party shifted from a borderline stuffy affair to a raucous house party where there was no chance of the parents coming home. It made Brienne uncomfortable, but Sansa begged her to stay a little while longer. 

A little while longer turned into several hours. People were playing games and dancing and Brienne couldn’t deny she was having fun. Every so often she locked eyes with Jaime and abruptly looked away. She didn’t know what kind of game he was playing, complimenting her to Olenna and trying to get her on the Bolton case. She suspected he thought the optics of a woman on the case would be good, but the reason was likely more nefarious than that. 

Brienne set her glass down on the nearest surface and told Sansa she was going to the restroom. She rinsed her mouth with spearmint wash and chatted with Ygritte when the paralegal emerged from a stall crying, dark streaks of mascara marring her pale skin. By the time she returned to the party, it was quiet and rather empty. It didn’t take her long to realize that people were either leaving or disappearing into offices or conference rooms to drunkenly kiss and grope. 

She headed toward her office, knowing she wasn’t sober enough to drive, and removed her shoes. Behind the closed door, her eyes scanned the messy surface of her desk and Brienne started to think about her caseload and how it was keeping her from making it home until after the first of the year. She collapsed onto the small couch against the wall and pressed the heel of her hands to her eyes in a futile attempt to keep from crying. 

A knock at the door started her and she quickly wiped a hand across her face and under her nose before saying, “It’s open.” 

Jaime peered into the room and when she didn’t protest, he walked all the way in and shut the door behind him. “Are you alright?” 

Brienne stood. “I didn’t invite you in,” she pointed out. 

He reached behind his back and opened the door. He shuffled backward, standing just outside of the frame. “Are you alright?” he asked again. 

“Yes. I’m just... thinking about my father. I won’t be able to see him until January.” 

Jaime offered an empathetic smile. “You can’t fly home and back on Christmas day?” 

She shook her head. “I have to be in court at three o’clock. There are no flights after five. I have a hearing the day before that has already had five continuances. And I don’t want him to fly here alone.” 

“You could use the company plane.” 

Brienne scoffed. “Yeah, sure.” 

“I’m being serious.” 

She looked directly at Jaime for the first time since he knocked on the door. “What is going on with you? Olenna said you want me on the Bolton case? Is that what all of this tonight has been about? Are you trying to woo me onto the team?” 

Jaime looked offended. “I did say I want you on the case. But whatever you think I’ve been doing tonight has nothing to do with that.” 

“Then what? You’ve never spoken this long to me without insulting me.” 

He looked surprised but then said, “Isn’t that our thing? I insult you, you tell me how corrupt I am.” 

“Our _thing_? So you mean to say that when you call me ‘sir’ it’s only because we have a _thing_ where you’re hateful and I point out the truth?” 

Jaime laughed, shaking his head in amusement. “I’m just really bad at flirting, Brienne.” 

Her eyes narrowed. Her mouth was agape. 

He took a step further into the room. Then another and another until he was standing only inches away from her. Jaime gently cupped her chin and drew the pad of his thumb beneath her plump bottom lip. He dropped his hand and her tongue followed the path his thumb had taken before she tightly pursed her lips. “I know I’m not very nice to you. It’s only because you’re good at your job and you’re the most honorable defense attorney I’ve ever met. You remind me constantly that I’m not very good at my job and I’m not very honorable. You make me want to be better at both of those things.” He paused before adding, “And I get mean when I get nervous.” 

Brienne’s voice was a trembling whisper when she asked, “Why are you nervous around me?” 

Jaime smiled. “Brienne, tonight wasn’t the first time I noticed your eyes.” 

She wished Sansa was there to translate. Brienne thought it was his way of saying he liked her, that he was attracted to her. But it was difficult to believe for so many reasons, and she wasn’t sure she wanted that to be the truth – he was handsome and sexy, but he was still morally repugnant. She suspected he was still playing some kind of game and said nothing as he turned around and left. 

* 

The office was a ghost town the morning after the party. Brienne arrived at nine o’clock, which was considerably late for her, and was surprised to see that Jaime was already in his office. 

Several minutes later he walked in to the kitchen while she was brewing a fresh pot of coffee. They exchanged cordial greetings before Jaime said, “You know, it’s wrong of me to insult you whether I’m being serious or not. But it’s not exactly great to have you constantly tell me I’m despicable. I will be the first to admit that I’m willing to bend the rules sometimes, but I take my oath of client-attorney privilege seriously despite what you’ve heard. People tend to forget the other side of all that. You can’t honor that promise when you know your client is going to hurt someone.” 

Brienne looked down when he stretched his hand toward her, giving her a heavy binder. The spine was labeled _A. Targaryen_ and he left once she took it. 

Carrying the binder and her coffee to her office, Brienne closed the door and sat at her desk. It was obviously Jaime’s personal file on the case. There were pages, weathered by time, with notes and rough drafts of opening statements. The governor had been accused of mishandling campaign funds and ended up arrested on charges of arson and attempted murder after Jaime gave testimony to the police. Aerys maintained the fire was an accident but Jaime’s notes after every meeting with his client grew increasingly alarmed and suspicious. 

Brienne flipped to the end and realized something was tucked into the pocket of the inside back cover. It was a soft, slim journal with the initials AT and the silhouette of a dragon embossed on the front. She opened it and scanned the handwriting, comparing it to some of the documents that contained Aerys’ signature or notes, and found them to be an obvious match. The journal was innocuous at first, but eventually the content became violent and disturbing. The fire he denied setting was planned out, down to which accelerant to use and what pour pattern would cause the most damage in the least amount of time. There was a list of his intended victims, including his wife. There were pages of planning for other fires and other victims, including his own children. 

She slammed the journal shut and dropped it onto her desk as though it were hot to the touch. Brienne stood and walked briskly to Jaime’s office, hugging the binder to her chest, but he wasn’t there. She checked the kitchen and waited outside the men’s restroom for a few minutes. She peeked into the conference rooms before deciding to try the roof. 

She found him there and he turned from the skyline at the sound of her footsteps. He said nothing, only nervously tucked his bottom lip under his teeth. 

“I had no idea,” Brienne told him. 

“How could you? I never wanted all of that detail out in the world. I wanted to spare his kids the ugly truth. But after a while... being looked down on when I think I did the right thing, it-” 

“Probably doesn’t feel any better than being picked on for your size or appearance,” Brienne guessed. 

Jaime nodded and accepted the binder when she handed it back to him. He tucked it under his arm and gestured toward the door. As they walked back into the building and to the elevator he asked, “Did you have any luck moving your court date on Christmas?” 

She shook her head. 

“I’m sorry. Is that the only thing on your wish list?” 

Brienne nodded. “But I guess I’ll settle for a win in court.” 

* 

The offices were rather empty on Christmas Eve. Brienne was grateful for the quiet when she arrived after her hearing. She was on the phone with Judge Stark’s clerk when she opened the door to her office and was struck silent by what she saw – her father seated behind her desk while Jaime Lannister stood from the couch. “Uh, I have to call you back,” Brienne stammered. “Dad, how did you get here?” 

At that moment Jaime said, “Excuse me.” He paused to look at Selwyn and told the man, “It was great talking to you, Mr. Tarth. Merry Christmas.” 

“Yes, same to you, Mr. Lannister,” Selwyn told him. “And thank you.” 

Jaime’s gaze was heavy as he stopped in the doorway to look at Brienne before he left without another word. 

She walked further into the room and bent to hug her father and kiss him on the cheek. “Dad, how did you get here?” she asked again. 

He nodded toward the open door. “Your friend.” 

“What?” 

“Jaime called me a couple days ago and said all you want for Christmas is to spend it with me without hurting any of your cases. He offered to fly down with the company plane. The seats are heated, Brienne.” 

She smiled and laughed, tears stinging her eyes. 

“He’s a nice man.” 

She looked toward the open doorway and said, “He’s alright.” 

After they chatted for a few minutes, Brienne excused herself. She once again did not see Jaime in his office or any of the usual places, including the roof. Disappointed she couldn’t properly thank him, she decided to at least scribble a note to leave on his desk. 

_Jaime, tell Santa I said thank you for the gift. - Brienne_

* 

No one wants to be in a courtroom on Christmas Day. All parties involved in the evidentiary hearing were prompt and polite. 

Brienne’s cousin had offered to pick Selwyn up and take him to a family party. It was early enough when the hearing ended that she felt she had time to go back to the office and do what was needed to file a motion before the deadline. 

As she expected, the receptionist was gone and the office was dark. There was a beam of light coming from Jaime’s office, but when she stopped at the door he was not at his desk. She hurried to her own computer and typed what she needed, sending it off. Brienne checked his office one more time but it was still empty. 

She found two beers left from the party in the fridge and carried them with her to the roof. Jaime was sitting on the ground, looking at his phone, and he hopped to his feet at the sight of her. “Hi. I mean, Merry Christmas, Brienne,” he said. 

“Merry Christmas, Jaime.” 

“Where’s your dad?” 

She smiled. “My cousin picked him up so he wouldn’t miss any of the party. I’m headed there soon.” She saw his gaze drop to the beers in her hand and she offered one to him. 

“Cheers,” he said, holding the bottle aloft, and she tapped hers against the amber colored glass. 

“Did you get my note?” Brienne asked. 

Jaime nodded. “I did. I sent it on to the North pole.” 

Brienne grinned. She took several steps closer to him. They stood side by side, looking out at the skyline and at the street down below. Even from such a great height they could see the twinkle of multi-colored lights. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m not sure why you did that but I’m grateful.” 

“You deserve to spend Christmas with you father,” Jaime told her. “You work hard. My father takes advantage of your work ethic. And I know you love Olenna but she doesn’t exactly advocate for a work-life balance.” 

She bent to set her beer on the ground and turned to face his profile. She drew in a shaky breath and had several false starts before she said, “A lot of people here work hard, Jaime. Would you fly the company plane to everyone’s hometown to pick up their elderly father?” 

Jaime set his beer down and turned toward her. “No,” he said plainly. “I wouldn’t.” 

“I felt something too,” she said after a long silence. 

He tilted his head, questioning. 

“That night. At the party. Before I realized you were in the Santa suit I felt... I don’t know. A spark?” 

Jaime smiled broadly. “Will you go to conference room three with me?” 

“What? Why?” 

“There is mistletoe hanging in the doorway,” Jaime said. 

Brienne felt heat spread from her cheeks down to her chest. She focused on his eyes and found the courage to respond, “You don’t need mistletoe.” 

He lifted his hands to frame her face. “I think meeting on the roof should be our new thing,” he said. “I prefer it to insults. Don’t you-” 

She grabbed handfuls of his shirt and tugged him forward, pressing their bodies together as her lips sought the heat of his mouth. 

* 

Brienne had never been one of the people sneaking away to an office or conference room during a work party to kiss and grope a co-worker. But on New Year’s Eve when the people in the office decided to order food, open champagne, and celebrate, she was nowhere to be found as the countdown to midnight began. 

The door to her office was locked. The only light in the room was the twinkle of city and holiday lights shining through the window. Two pairs of shoes had been kicked off at the door. Jaime’s suit jacket was strewn on the carpet. His tie had been tossed and landed over the lamp on her desk. She stood facing the window while he drew down the zipper of her dress. She felt the fabric loosen around her back and waist. Brienne shivered when Jaime pushed the material down her arms until it pooled around her waist. 

He could see their reflections in the window. Jaime watched as he circled one arm around her waist while his other hand slowly traced a line along her ribcage, stopping to cup her bare breast. He let go only to give her chin a nudge, encouraging her to look up. 

Brienne watched their faint reflections as Jaime palmed her breast and dragged his thumb back and forth across the pebbled flesh at the peak. She moaned softly when he pushed his hips forward and she could feel him hard against her backside. 

She reluctantly broke away from him and turned to face him. Brienne pushed the dress down over her hips and it fell around her ankles. She kicked it aside and Jaime grasped her hips, guiding her toward the desk. She leaned against the edge while he hooked his thumbs under the waistband of her last article of clothing, tugging the silken material down as he bent his knees and dropped to the ground. 

Brienne yelped and gripped the edge of the desk when Jaime first tasted between her legs. His tongue scorched her tender flesh, and as he licked and sucked she began to roll her hips and push closer to him. She moved her hands to his head, clutching at his hair. It was a new sensation for Brienne and soon her entire body went rigid and she tilted her head back, releasing a loud, deep moan. 

The sounds of her pleasure would have been heard by everyone in the office, but a moment after the clock struck twelve, the party outside her office erupted in cheers.


End file.
